Dark Veela

The Ending of the Dark Veela Curse

Their passion had barely abated and now, Hermione was faced with a stunning revelation. She was not sure how to respond to Severus' narration, but one look at his tentative and uncertain expression, visible clearly to her through the tightening of his shoulder muscles and the shiftiness of his eyes that were not quite able to meet hers', made her realise that even despite their obvious manifestation of love, both at the soul-binding and the reversal of the Dark Veela curse, that he expected her to now reject him. She wanted to shake him for doubting her, but she also realised that it was a result of all the times people had turned away from him. Now, though, she realised that it would have been the Veela curse which had made Severus a pariah from his earliest days.

Doing her best to therefore reassure her lover, she smiled gently. 'I don't care what you are,' she said as lovingly as she could. 'I adore you. You must know that. I've given myself freely to you, and I will continue to do so. Just because you have Veela blood in you is not going to make me love you less. I'll just have to learn a few especially vicious hexes if the other witches get too close in their attentions toward you.'

Severus's eyes glowed at her show of jealously. His body became less tense as he gathered her even closer to him. 'You are so precious,' he whispered, even as his mouth closed, hot and hungry, over hers.

Hermione suddenly remembered Narcissa's words about what to do after they first made love. Hoping that she was not too late, she gently pushed herself away from Severus and worked her way down. At his inquiringly raised eyebrow, she blushed, but said, 'Cissy told me that I must clean our emissions from you and have you do the same for me. It is to strengthen, seal and bind our bond; I think its women's magic.'

'Ah,' said Severus with a smirk, then imperiously added, 'You may continue.'

Hermione laughed but continued. She had wanted to explore Severus for ages, and ever since her frank discussion with Narcissa on her birthday, she had imagined licking Severus clean. Slowly, teasingly, she allowed her tongue to circle his by now hard and straining head before taking long, leisurely licks as though she were enjoying an especially tasty ice-cream on a hot summer's day.

Severus groaned in desire. 'Witch,' he said heatedly, even as he readily submitted to her torture. Before long though, the playfulness in her manner altered, and she set to her task with more serious intent as Severus continued to watch her. Once she felt that she had been thorough enough, she looked up to meet his eyes. 'First blood, first pleasure, now I am yours, forever.'

Once she had said the words, a feeling of contentment and peace settled over her. She smiled at him and said, 'Now it is your turn.'

'Is it now?' asked her devilishly smirking lover. 'Right, then, Madam Snape.' Severus suddenly moved to push her on to her back as if to attack, making her squeal in delight.

Hermione giggled at his superciliously arched brow. 'Beast,' she said fondly. Humour soon vanished though at Severus' display of masterful skill. He was now more than confident of her acceptance, and he set about devouring her, sending her reeling in ecstasy. His tongue was a weapon used to bring her to the brink of explosion, even as he cleaned their emissions and repeated in heated whispers the words she had used.

No sooner than the words left his lips than they could both feel their magic combining; uniting. It was a very physical sensation of how closely their innate magical senses were now entwined.

Hermione was utterly amazed, marvelling at how much something like her maiden blood and a few magic words could bring into a consensual relationship, and Hermione could not but be thankful that she had met the Malfoys. If she had never known Narcissa, she would not have known about or thought to perform these intimate magical practices. Because she had unintentionally overheard some of the girls at Hogwarts talking and giggling to each other about their encounters, especially her house, she knew that many of the girls who gave their virginity to their boy-friends had not done any of the things she had done. The most she'd heard whispered, if they were clever, was to collect their first blood for healing or fertility potions for when they did marry.

However, her thoughts were soon brought back to the man who had loved her so thoroughly, for he was now, following the rapture, making his way towards her. 'I love you, Hermione,' he said seriously. 'I can feel our love healing all the fissures that had opened up within me because of my Dark Magical usage.'

'Oh, Severus,' she said in wonder. 'I'm so happy our love has the power to heal and mend.' She sat up and hugged him, tightly, overjoyed that she, her little ritual, had healed him.

He nodded. He had never heard that the act of making love could actually heal the damage done by the use of Dark Magic. Amazed at the many gifts finding Hermione had given him, he set to demonstrating his devotion in the most physical way he could. As he slid into her wet and ready body, he murmured his adoration in a passion roughened voice.

Again, their ardour was raised to blinding heights, and when they both came, Hermione was especially vocal, her moans and gasps interspersed with her declarations of love and desire for him. This time, when Severus regained his senses after his orgasm, he rolled on to his back and covered his eyes with his arm. He could not believe the feelings that were coursing through his body.

Hermione too was lost to the sensations that were making their way through her. She could feel her synapses firing, her nerves tingling with magic. She could do nothing but lie as she was, feeling the power of her magic and their combined love altering her. She did not know if what she was feeling was normal, but if it was, she could not understand how Dumbledore could have ever managed to equate blood and sex magic to Dark and Evil practices. What she was feeling was life affirming. It was the very antithesis of Darkness. Finally, feeling more in control of her actions, she turned to Severus.

Seeing him so completely overawed by the power of what they had done made her smile in spite of herself. Sliding her arm around his waist, she drew close enough to hide her face in his chest and cuddle his side.

She heard him sign and draw her more securely to him. 'I don't know what's going on,' he said, his voice laced with unexpected confusion. 'I don't think what we just felt is normal, Hermione.'

She forced herself to raise her head and look at him. She felt completely spent.

'I know,' he murmured at her exhausted expression. 'It could be the Dark Veela curse lifting, together with all of the blessing of the Veela coming into full effect. I didn't really do enough research to find out what being part Veela would bring to our relationship. I guess there was a secret part of me that thought that the curse would never truly be broken.'

'Would Fleur know?' wondered Hermione aloud.

'Possibly. Although it might be better if we speak to one of the Veela elders. Now that the curse is truly broke, I will have to try and reconnect with that side of my family in any case. We'll need to because male Veela tend to impregnate their mates pretty quickly.'

'What?' Hermione shrieked, suddenly fully revived.

Severus began to laugh. He had just thrown that statement in there. Hermione's face had been scrunched up in thoughtful zeal. He could see the wheels in her head turning as she took on the task of researching all that she could about the Veela, especially because he knew Veela males had not been extensively studied.

'Beast,' said Hermione in exasperation. 'I never know what you're going to say next.'

Severus smiled. He felt young and completely unlike the man who had woken up this morning in nervous anticipation of his binding as though years of Darkness had been lifted from his psyche. He could see the years stretching before him, years in which he would be able to shock and surprise his precious Hermione.

Hermione and Severus were now irrevocably joined together. Their coming together had played the final part in sealing their union. The Ministry's register would have been magically notified at their completion of the consummation of their vows.

However, tradition called for an official marriage ceremony, one that was more formal and social. This ritual followed the engagement because if the couple could not be soul-bound or did not wish for such a permanent a tie or merely wanted a blessing by a priest or priestess such as the Priestess of Hera, or any other deity preferred by the couple's beliefs. Then the purely legal service could be conducted to bind a couple for a life-time, or until they decided to part. Magical marriage allowed for many different ceremonies, customs, bindings and vows, even allowing for Muggle ceremonies if that was the couple's choice. All were valid, all were meant to give couples the kind of union they desired.

Severus and Hermione had however agreed to put off their official marriage ceremony until the school closed for the Yule holidays. Thus, when Hermione returned to the castle, she already accepted that she would most likely not be residing in the Headmaster's chambers.

However, as Hermione spoke to the castle on her return following the binding, she was gladdened to hear the very walls rejoice in their union. Every staircase and doorway wished them well as she made her way to her room in Gryffindor Tower. Meanwhile, all the portraits and suits of armour welcomed her as their Châtelaine. And once she entered her chamber, the castle surprised her by the addition of an ornate and gilded arched door. Curious, but suspecting what was behind it, she opened it to reveal the Headmaster's master bedchamber. Smiling in thanks as she caressed the wedding present from the castle, Hermione wandered into her lover's most private domain. Knowing that he would not have yet made his way into his private rooms, but had instead gone directly into his office, she left him a gift on his immense four-poster bed from some of Narcissa's specially purchased trousseau. She knew that the scraps of emerald green and gold silk would most certainly gain her lover's interest, especially since it was placed so strategically on his vast expanse of blindingly white, high thread count, Egyptian elf-made cotton linen, even if by some amazing stroke of absentmindedness he were to miss the new exit from his bedroom.